


Play Thing

by FishEyenoMiko



Series: Dominion [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Dom/sub, Gimp Suit, Kilts, M/M, Objectification, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 11:59:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishEyenoMiko/pseuds/FishEyenoMiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock plays with his favourite toy--John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play Thing

"I'm off to work," said John as he headed out the door.

"Don’t make any plans tonight," said Sherlock without looking up from his book.

"Oh?"

"Just don't."

"Okay," said John, smiling.

 

After a long--and somewhat distracted--day, John was glad to arrive home. He walked up the steps to 221b, and was surprised to see the door closed. He opened the door to see Sherlock sitting on the couch in his kilt and black boots. The coffee table had been moved aside, and there was a small rug on the floor right in front of the couch. The coffee table also had a cloth draped over it to hide whatever Sherlock had put on it.

"Close the door," said Sherlock.

John closed the door. 

"Take your shoes and socks off, puppy, and stand on the rug."

John's heart sped up a little at the pet name. He smiled as he removed his shoes. Then he took off his socks and tucked them into his shoes. He set them aside. Then he walked forward and stepped onto the rug.

Sherlock got up and walked over to the coffee table. John kept his eyes forward, so he couldn't see what Sherlock was doing. 

"You can look, puppy," said Sherlock.

John turned his head to watch Sherlock lift part of the cloth covering the coffee table. John had to suppress a delighted grin as Sherlock held up a black rubber gimp suit and a matching hood. 

Sherlock walked over to the couch and draped the suit over the back of it. He turned to John with an evil grin.

"Eyes front," Sherlock ordered, and John immediately turned and looked in front of him.

Sherlock walked up and began to pull off John's jumper. 

"Arms up." 

John raised his arms so Sherlock could take it off. 

Next came the buttons on his shirt, slowly undone, one by one. John shivered with delight as Sherlock's fingers occasionally brushed against his skin.

Sherlock walked around and pulled John's shirt off from behind. Those same hands then slid around his waist, undoing his belt and trousers. He slowly worked them down his legs. He pulled John's pants down, as well.

"Step out."

John obediently stepped out of his trousers and underwear.

John heart raced as Sherlock circled him slowly, looking him up and down. He was regarding him coolly, as if looking at some interesting new product at the store he was thinking of buying. Somehow, thinking of himself that way, as a _thing_ Sherlock wanted to own, and use, made John shiver with excitement.

Sherlock walked over to the couch and sat down.

"Close your eyes."

John closed his eyes.

"Get yourself off, puppy."

Reaching down, John began pleasuring himself. He fondled his balls and stroked his cock. He thought about the gimp suit, and what Sherlock might do to him while he was in it. He'd be covered from head to foot; nothing but a black figure, with a few zippers and flaps to allow Sherlock to access him. Like before, John was surprised how much he was aroused by the idea of being an object for Sherlock to play with; it didn't take long until he came, most of his cum dripping onto the rug.

A warm, damp cloth wiped off his left hand and his cock.

"Open your eyes."

John opened his eyes and saw Sherlock walking over to the couch. He picked up the gimp suit and headed back over to John.

"Now listen closely, puppy: Move when it's necessary for me to get this on you; aside from that stay still and silent. Understood?"

"Understood." 

Sherlock held the outfit down so John could step into it, then slowly slid it up John's body, slowly encasing him in rubber. The gloves of the suit were really more like mittens; the thumb was separate (though sewn close to the rest of the glove), but the other fingers were encased together, giving the wearer limited use of his hands. The suit tightened a bit; no doubt Sherlock had just zipped it up.

The hood came last. Most of it was rubber like the body suit, but the mouth and nose part were a black lycra; they were covered but he could still breathe. The rubber over the ears was layered, making it a bit thicker than the rest, muffling his hearing. Whatever Sherlock wanted wouldn't require giving John many orders, at least out loud. John felt Sherlock adjust the hood a bit, then, like the main part of the suit, it too tightened as Sherlock zipped it up.

For some time John stood in the dark, with muffled sounds and nothing touching him but the tight rubber of the gimp suit. 

Finally, John felt something being put around his neck. Then there was some other movement, then John felt himself being tugged. He realised Sherlock had just put a collar and leash on him. He obeyed the gentle tugging, allowing Sherlock to pull him forward. They didn't move far; John suspected it had just been an experiment.

Again John found himself standing still, not being touched or ordered about. This was part of it, too; Sherlock loved to test John's patience. So he stood, calm and obedient, waiting till Sherlock gave him reason to do otherwise.

Sherlock tugged gently on John's leash. The tug was downward, so John did what seemed like the most logical thing and got down on his knees. 

John's leash was tugged down again. This time he wasn't exactly sure what Sherlock wanted. The logical thing seemed to be to lay down, but as he stretched out, there was another tug on the leash, this time upwards. John moved back up onto his knees. His leash was released, but then Sherlock grabbed his arms and pulled them down. John then realised Sherlock wanted him on his hands and knees. With his hands constricted in the gloves, it took some effort to get his hands into a comfortable position on the floor.

As soon as John got himself into position, Sherlock spread his thighs nice and wide. John then felt a little chilliness as Sherlock undid the zipper covering his anus. A dollop of wonderfully warm lube was applied, then something was pushed into him. Another push, and John could tell it was thick silicone dildo in the shape of a dick. After a moment, Sherlock pushed it in a little deeper. It was slightly thinner than Sherlock's cock, but it still felt wonderful to be penetrated and stretched by it. There was another push and John felt a bulge as it widened a bit, working past his sphincter. Then Sherlock pulled it back out. On the next push, the bulge went deeper. Sherlock began pulling the dildo back and forth inside John's arse. He almost always pushed it in just a little deeper on each push in, stretching John more and more and deeper. John had to brace his knees and concentrate to keep from riding Sherlock's masterful thrusts.

Sherlock gave one last push, shoving the dildo deep into John, past the bulge, then stopped. It took John a second to realise that Sherlock had let go of the dildo. So now John was sheathed in rubber, nothing but a black, featureless figure, on its hand and knees, penetrated and helpless. The reality of it--the feel of the concealing rubber, the submissive position, the dildo deep in his arse--was incredible; but the image of it--indeed, he no doubt looked like nothing more than an object to Sherlock--was even better.

John had to bite his lip to keep from moaning as the dildo was pulled out. He suddenly felt empty. He had no time to dwell on the feeling, though. No sooner was the dildo removed than Sherlock was inside of him, fucking him roughly, going deep with each wild thrust. Sherlock's hands gripped John's hips. John noted that while Sherlock was touching him, he couldn't feel the warmth and softness of his fingers through the rubber of the suit; he could only feel the strength of his grip holding him, controlling him. The only place their bodies touched was Sherlock's wonderful, long cock in John's eager arse.

John felt Sherlock come inside him. As soon he did, Sherlock pressed a hand between John's shoulders, pushing him down. Then Sherlock pulled out, leaving John with his head and shoulders down and his arse sticking in the air. But Sherlock wasn’t done with John's arse; John felt something else pushed into his already well-used hole. It took him a moment to realise Sherlock had put a butt plug in him. He felt movement, and heard the muffled sound of a zipper. He was encased again; even the part of him that Sherlock liked to play with so much was covered.

John remained like that for several minutes. It was an intentionally uncomfortable, humiliating position. Again, John found himself feeling like some human-sized, rubber sex toy. And again, he found the feeling incredibly arousing.

There was an upward tug on John's leash, so he got back up on his hands and knees. Another tug, and he was up on his knees. A third one, and he was on his feet.

Suddenly, Sherlock unzipped the suit and quickly stripped it off. John nearly gasped at the sudden change from the warmth of the suit to the cool air of the flat. He was also quite aware of sensations; minute drafts of air caressed his hot, moist skin, ruffling tiny hairs all over his body. Rivulets of sweat, now exposed to the air, chilled him as they oozed down his arms and chest, and down between his legs. 

John was suddenly aware of his erection, but he made no attempt to cover himself; he kept his hands at his sides. He was still wearing the hood, so he couldn't hear much and couldn’t see anything. This meant even with the suit off, John still felt like a blank slate, a naked body for Sherlock to use as he pleased.

John's hands were grabbed roughly and pulled behind him. Something was put around them. After a second, John realised was a pair of rubber cuffs, binding his hands close together behind his back. 

The leash was tugged down. John again dropped to his knees. Another tug downward, but this time it was back. Did Sherlock mean for him to lie on his back, on top of his arms? Apparently he waited a second too long, for there was another, rougher tug on the leash. John obediently lay back. He was indeed lying on his own bound arms, his legs still bent under him.

Sherlock's hand took hold of John's left leg. He was wearing rubber gloves, so like before, even though John could feel Sherlock's hand, there was no warmth or softness to it. The hand pulled his leg straight, and a rubber strap was wrapped around his ankle. Then Sherlock spread his legs wide, and his other ankle was strapped down. It was a spreader bar, holding John's ankles apart and forcing his legs open, giving Sherlock easy access.

John let out a cry as a warm, strong hand wrapped around his hard, needy cock. The hand let go, slapping him hard on the thigh. 

Sherlock's voice came through the muffling effect of the hood:

"Silence, puppy! Don’t speak unless you're told to. Nod if you understand." 

John nodded.

"Good puppy."

There was a soft kiss on his thigh where he'd been spanked.

The hand was back on John's still-throbbing erection. John felt Sherlock stroke him vigourously. He then felt Sherlock's hot breath on his cock a second before it was assaulted by Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock's tongue was surprisingly rough on John's raw, sensitive skin. Suddenly John felt Sherlock's teeth close on his cock. Even knowing Sherlock would never do it, John bit his lip to stifle a whimper of instinctive fear. Sherlock's teeth scraped down John's cock, pushing him to the edge. Apparently Sherlock sensed it, because he pulled back, so he no longer had his mouth around John's prick. Sherlock then held John's cock so it rested on his stomach.

John suppressed a moan as he came, warm jizz splattering across his chest and abdomen. Sherlock worked last the bit out, and it oozed over John's stomach and down his side.

John was left like that for awhile; blinded and deafened, bound and spread, lying uncomfortably on his arms, his own cum cooling on his chest.

The straps were undone from around John's ankles, but he left his legs open. Sherlock closed his legs, then turned him on his right side. The cuffs were removed from his wrists, and John felt Sherlock massage his left shoulder. Then John was rolled unto his back again, this time without his arms underneath him. A warm wet cloth cleaned the jizz off John's body, even where it had trickled down his side. Then the plug was pulled out, and his cock and arse were gently cleaned.

"John... stand up."

The use of his real name let John know that the session was over. He stood up.

"I'm going to take off the hood," said Sherlock, "but I'd like you to keep your eyes closed, please."

A request, not a command.

"All right."

The hood loosened as Sherlock unzipped it, then it was completely removed. John sighed as he felt the cool air on his face. He was sure his damp hair was a mess. Indeed, Sherlock slid his fingers though it, hopefully making it less unruly.

"Please open your mouth."

John smiled, then obeyed. Sherlock slipped something between his open lips. John let out a sigh of pleasure as it touched his tongue. It was chocolate, but not just any chocolate; it was a brand of chocolate that both he and Sherlock loved; dark, rich, and terribly expensive. John knew that Sherlock was giving him some as a reward for his patience and obedience. Sherlock's fingers slid out of John's mouth one by one until one was left. He finally drew that one out, until there was nothing in John's mouth but the chocolate.

"Go ahead and enjoy it, it's all yours." 

John bit into the chocolate, its bitter-sweet taste filling his mouth.

Sherlock caressed John's face, then his shoulders and chest. Then Sherlock kissed him.

"My dear, sweet John."


End file.
